Eh. You'd expect something different than what you get from a film about the Japanese porn industry titled Bastoni - The Stick Handlers.
Come on, The Stick Handlers? This should have been a Porky's-type film that, instead of a de facto softcore porn, was actually porn mixed with comedy.
Instead, we get a movie that is actually rather a sad story.
For the music snob, the first concert occupies a sacred space. Whether awful or amazing, we remember that first show, be it grooving to New Kids on the Block or sitting with your parents, suffering through a James Taylor set.
Every advertisement was billing it as the Dismemberment Plan's last show ever but when lead singer Travis Morrison walked on stage after Engine Down's serviceable opening set, he set the record straight on the "big fat lie." Turns out that the Plan had one more show, in their hometown of Washington, D.C.
I used to write song lyrics in the love letters I would write to my girlfriend senior year of high school.
The lyrics were never anything really important, they were from something like Blink 182's "Going Away To College," but I thought I was poet laureate of Northeast Philadelphia.
I miss doing that.
It seems the French have a little longing for America in them after all. It's true--we may have taken their fries, their toast, even their kisses, but after one viewing of Jet Lag, there's no denying that they want to steal something from us: a quality Hollywood-esque romantic comedy.